


'Dearest Belle'

by TheChippingFeels



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sad, Will add more characters later - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChippingFeels/pseuds/TheChippingFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Rumplestiltskin sacrificed himself in season 3, Belle and Baelfire returned to the Enchanted Forest determined on bringing him back. While digging through the library Belle finds a box full of letters written by Rumplestiltskin, all addressed to her. <br/>Based off Letters You'll Never Read by wavesketcher</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Letter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Letters You'll Never Read](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704879) by [wavesketcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wavesketcher/pseuds/wavesketcher). 



> This was based on the wavesketcher Swan Queen fic Letter's You'll Never Read

 

She was standing in a ghost castle.

The Dark Castle had been deserted for decades, even if time had been still for most of those years, it still had not been attended to for years. There were cobwebs everywhere and thick layers of dust covering almost everything. Things were set askew and it felt hollow.

For Belle it made sense, the last time she had set foot in the castle she did not leave with good memories. Perhaps she did in the grand scheme, but the last time she had seen her Love in their realm it had not gone well at all.

 

The lingering memory haunted Belle, a great many memories haunted her, the last time she was in the Enchanted Forest she was plagued with the memory of Rumplestiltskin accusing her of working towards his defeat and casting her out. Now she was left with something far worse.

 

It had been almost a month since Rumplestiltskin had died in front of her. It had been almost a month since he had looked right into her eyes and told her he loved her before killing himself to save her and his son. It had been almost a month since she had returned to the Enchanted Forest.

 

Her first destination was of course the Dark Castle, before the counter curse had been set she dreaded waking up back in Regina’s cell, the place she had been when the curse was set all those years ago. But she didn’t, instead she found herself in the middle of the same people who had watched Rumplestiltskin die along with her. They had lost their daughter and son, but only she and Baelfire truly cared about Rumplestiltskin. It fueled her with anger, but she decided to block it out of her mind.

 

In truth she envied them, they were gifted with the knowledge that Emma and Henry were happy and safe in another realm. For her, the one she loved was dead and gone. Belle supposed it was worse for Baelfire, he had lost his father, his Love, and his son all in the same day.

 

Not if she had anything to say about it though.

 

Belle knew that there was no way to bring back the dead, Rumplestiltskin had said so many times, but Rumplestiltskin was no ordinary man. His body and his dagger had disappeared when he died, she didn’t know if that meant anything but that might mean there was a chance of getting him back.

 

A slim, slim chance, but a chance was all she could hope for.

 

But in truth she couldn’t have much hope, in front of others she appeared calm and strong, claiming that she and Baelfire could find a way to get him back, that there was a way, but in truth she was broken. Every time she closed her eyes, every time she tried to sleep, the back of her eyelids showed the scene of her Rumplestiltskin taking the dagger in hand and taking it sharply through him and Pan. All she could think about was how she just stood there not able to do anything about it. She felt pains in her chest and water in her eyes every time she was out of sight. She knew he was gone, not gone as in locked away or in another realm, but _gone,_ not of the living world. Just erased from existence, leaving her with a chipped cup and broken heart. And Belle knew that there wasn’t a chance of him coming back.

 

And the castle didn’t feel the same, it felt haunted and cold, she could still feel him in the castle. The spinning wheel still sat in the same place; that was the first thing Belle saw as she and Baelfire opened the doors of the Dark Castle. She had been strong and silent as they journeyed there, but the second she saw the wheel she broke down. Fell to her knees and made noises she didn’t know she was capable of making. She remembered Baelfire kneeling beside her, tears made their way down his face as he saw the wheel as well. The truth had set in for both of them.

 

Baelfire had taken too venturing the castle, Rumplestiltskin had littered the place with Blood Magic; secret tools popped up everywhere. He used the books to research the items he found, but so far there was nothing that could help them.

 

She indulged herself in her books, practically living in the library, she dived into the books of the darkest magic, the most obscure spells, but found nothing. It wasn’t healthy, but it was all she willed herself to do. There was nothing on bringing back the dead, she knew Rumplestiltskin and he was not a person to mess with fate or death or finality. But she wasn’t, she wasn’t letting go yet.

 

Belle had spent days searching though the self of books on magic, decades ago when she lived with him in their castle as a maid with quite a lot of free time, she was never interested in spells and sorcery. Now she needed it, she needed him back. She hadn’t been able to move on for years when her mother had died and she wasn’t planning on going through that grief again.

 

Expecting that Rumple was the sort of person to have hidden nooks behind shelves, or having one book that would turn the entire shelf around to reveal a hidden room. Today she planned to take all the books off the shelf just to make sure, yet after taking all the books off the shelves. Yet after hours of completely emptying the walls she found the shelves to be completely bare.

 

Completely defeated, she fell back into one of the great armchairs that had nearly fallen apart since the years. Her whole situation was futile, there was nothing on bringing back the dead. Belle’s hands started shaking slightly in anger and desperation and sadness. She needed him back, she needed him to be with her and tell her that things were going to be okay. She always dreamed of finding him when she was imprisoned, then reuniting and having wonderful adventures in the far-off places he always went to. They had been so close, so very close, and he had been ripped away in a bright flash.

 

Her eyes fell to the other side of the room, the bookshelves with history, fiction, biographies, maps, and all things non-magic. That was her side, the side she would spend days at a time reading through and exploring. The chair she was sitting in was her chair, the chair she would do her reading in. Sometimes he would use the library to work while she read and she would catch him looking at her in the corner of her eye. Sometimes Belle didn’t read in the library, but read in the great hall, sitting next to him while he spun.

 

She had to remind herself that those moments were as dead and gone and far away as Rumplestiltskin.

Belle’s gaze fell on the shelf that contained her favorite book, _Her Handsome Hero,_ that was one of the first books he had given her, the one she had read more than any other book, the first she had read to Rumplestiltskin, the one she missed the most when locked away. _Her Handsome Hero_ was the book that felt completely _hers._

 

She needed that book, whenever things got too happy or too angry or too depressing or too thoughtful or not thoughtful enough, Belle though, that was always the best time to read one’s favorite book. Right now she was tired and lonely and abandon, a better time than any to read her book.

 

Belle got up from the chair and made her way over to the book, it was on the shelf that was perfect for her height and in the very middle of the rest of the books. It was the thickest and most worn. _Hers,_ completely her book. She blew a thin layer of dust off the books and slid out _Her Handsome Hero,_ it was wedged in tightly and she had to use a bit of strength to get it out. When she did four or five books next to it came tumbling down.

 

After swiping away the dust in the air Belle bent down to pick up the fallen books, the rest of the line had fallen on its side, cuing her to push them back before restacking the rest of the books. But what she saw after pushing the books aside caught her completely by surprise.

 

Through the shadow and dust she could see very clearly a small door. There was no lock so, with adrenaline and hope rushing though her, she opened it and stuck her hand inside to search around. She felt a wooden box and pulled it out, it was ornately designed. A size that would fit a book, she opened it slowly, praying that there was something inside to help her.

 

It was filled with loose pages.

 

But Belle caught her breath, she recognized the handwriting, the small almost illegible words, some of the pages were smooth and some were crumpled, most were old. She could see there were many spots with smudged ink and small rips.

 

It was his.

 

She unfolded the one on top of the pile and the first words struck her in the heart.

 

_‘Dearest Belle,’_

 

Her fingers clenched the paper tightly, her whole body tensed.

 

_‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’_

She swallowed and blinked away her tears as she continued.

 

‘ _You deserved so much more, you deserved more than me and-_ there was a large portion of lines that were covered with ink- _what happened to you. I didn’t deserve you, I didn’t deserve you to walk into my dark life and ruin yours. I shouldn’t have made you come with me. I shouldn’t have –_ another portion filled with lines of smudged ink- _I shouldn’t have done everything I did.’_

His handwriting was nearly illegible, not the kind of illegible due to calligraphy or cursive, but it looked as though it was hard for him to write it. Belle sat down in the chair with the box and the letter in her lap as she continued.

 

‘ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’_

It clicked in her brain, this wasn’t a letter Rumplestiltskin ever intended to send to her, this was a letter he wrote when he thought she was dead.

 

‘ _I should have believed you when you were here last time, when I did what I did, and you were so right. I shouldn’t have shook you or yelled at you or thrown you in the dungeon or made you leave.’_

The word ‘leave’ was written small and pathetically, Belle’s face was damp and her eyes flooded, she wanted to stop reading this, she didn’t have to read this. It was horrible and she hated thinking of Rumplestiltskin blaming himself and beating himself up for a tragic event that didn’t even happen.

 

Yet, they were his words, she could hear his voice, she saw him so clearly. It hurt, beyond hurt, but she needed any part of him she could get.

 

‘ _You were a goddess and I was not worthy of you, I loved you. I should have told you that a long time ago, but I did. I didn’t deserve your love, you, anything to do with you. You had no place in my dark world.’_

The ‘d’ in loved was small and squeezed in.

 

‘ _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. If I didn’t throw you out or- I don’t know- but I shouldn’t have loved you, it put you in danger. You paid a price you didn’t have to pay and it’s my fault. I could have kept you safe but I didn’t. You deserved adventures and someone worthy of your love, you deserved beautiful, magical realms, wonderful creatures and- everything. You deserved everything.’_

_‘You were a hero Belle, you were such a hero, you saved your people who did not deserve salvation after what they did to you. You looked into me when I have not earned compassion. Life was not kind to you, I was not kind to you. I can’t undo it.’_

 

‘ _I always knew that magic cannot bring back the dead, it messes with fate and it’s best left alone, something I learned long ago. I never had anyone who died I wanted to bring back. Even if I knew a way, I wouldn’t. I, your people, your father, this world was not worthy of you Belle. Wherever you are, I hope you like it, I hope it has the adventures you looked for. I hope it’s worthy of you.’_

_‘I’m sorry Belle. I will say it a thousand times but it won’t make up for what I did. But know that I mean it, it’s all I can give you.’_

_‘-your, forever, Rumplestiltskin’_

 

Belle was crying, she didn’t realize it but somewhere in the middle of the words she started sobbing. Her hand covered her mouth as she closed her eyes and choked down a miserable noise. Her body was shaking and her face blotchy and red. She processed the letter, she had never been dead, her father had never tortured her, yet he thought for so long that he had caused so much suffering for her.

 

Regardless of whether it was real or fake, Rumplestiltskin had gone through the same pain she was going through now. But with him, he was only left with a cup she chipped, Belle had a box of letters all addressed to her.

 

She wiped away her tears and reached for the next paper.

 


	2. The Second Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle read the second letter, followed by tea with Bae.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive feedback! I would love to hear more.

_‘Dearest Belle’_

_‘This library feels empty without you, every time I look around I half expect you to be curled up in your chair reading that book. You were always beautiful when you read, that was when you were happiest, wrapped up in a made-up world with your characters and stories. I wish you could have lived like that forever. Wherever you are now, and I don’t know where you are, I hope you have a library with enough books.’_

_‘In all my years of studying magic and obtaining power, all 300-some years, I never had an interest in what happened after death or how to bring the dead back. There was never anyone I wanted to bring back, maybe you are best left where you are, you deserve to have a peaceful afterlife after all the hell I forced upon you. Life is complicated and has too many layers, death is something that should be simple. You never did like simple things though, I suppose that’s why you –there was a word crossed out- didn’t hate me.’_

_‘I couldn’t completely take Regina’s word, although I should have, and I returned to your old home. You had a grave, small and out of sight. Right next to a tower, I expected as much from how your father treated you, at least there were flowers.’_

_‘I truly do not know how the afterlife functions, but if you don’t have a sense of what happens at your grave, but I returned your rose. I suppose I should tell you the story behind that rose, there wasn’t a woman selling flowers the day I gave it to you, if I am being truthful I transformed your ex-fiancé into a never-wilting flower after he showed up to the door and, well, I didn’t think you would approve.’_

            Surprised at herself, Belle let out an odd laugh around her tears, that was the sort of thing she would expect Rumple to do. And in his semi-twisted way and her completely crazy way, it worked, it fit, and it wasn’t strange. Though she knew for a fact that if Rumplestiltskin were here-

            Well she didn’t really want to think about things that were along the lines of ‘if he were here’ or ‘what if’.

            Apparently Rumplestiltskin did when she had ‘died.’

            ‘ _That’s another way your death was caused if I’m to be honest. I am in no way an honest person but you deserve every truth I can and will give you. If I had not transformed your ex-fiancé, someone would have married you (even if he was an idiot), your father wouldn’t have locked you away, and you wouldn’t have died. That’s the first truth I will give you, your death was my fault, I know that, and that is most definitely the worst thing I have ever done. That is not a light statement Belle, I have done horrible things, don’t doubt that, but causing your death was the worst thing I have ever done.’_

_‘Throwing you out, accusing you of working for the Queen, bringing you to my castle in the first place, I was beyond stupid. I marked you and threw you out to the wolves and the people who judged you. I did love you, I still love you, and I haven’t loved anyone in a very long time. I shouldn’t have let things get as far as they did. There are potions that can take away memories of people you loved, I should have done that to you in order to keep you safe.’_

Remembering back to the time when she did forget him, Belle thought about how he had tried so hard to get her to remember, she remembered his speech through the phone as if it was painted on her mind. She remembered how even though she had no idea who he was, Rumplestiltskin still told her beautiful words and kissed her gently and tried to help her as best he could. She forgot him for twenty-eight years while he thought she was dead. No, forgetting him willingly, even if it kept her safe, she would never do that.

            ‘ _Here is a second truth you deserve, or is it a third, regardless, you deserve the story I promised you.’_

_I had a son, when I was still a man so many years ago, his name was Baelfire and he was the center of my world. I raised him after my wife left me for reasons that are not important. I was weak and cowardly before becoming the Dark One. I injured myself so I would not have to fight in war and I could return home to my son. My village branded me, my wife hated and left me, the only thing I had was my son._

_‘When he was fourteen he was to be drafted for the first ogres war as I was before he was born, but you know from experience that men cannot fight ogres. I would have lost him if he fought, but there was a way out. Back then the Dark One was controlled by a Duke of the Frontlands, he used the Dark One to force the people to sacrifice themselves. A man told me how to get control of the Dark One and take his power in order to protect my son, it was a trap and I can write down how I did it on the off chance these letters get in the wrong hands. But I became the Dark One, I ended the First Ogres War, and Baelfire was safe. But the darkness and the power feeds on you, it took me over and changed me into a person Baelfire hated. I agreed to go with him to a land without magic so the power of the Dark One would no longer corrupt me, we were going through a portal, and I let go at the wrong moment. But I was told I will find him, and I vowed I would dedicate my whole life into finding him, no matter how long it took. My son is out there somewhere Belle, but I know it will not be long before I do find him. Many years to you but not to me, that’s the story, most of it, the important parts.’_

_‘I hope I gave you the story you wanted Belle, I should have given it to you long before.’_

_-Your, forever, Rumplestiltskin._

            Belle’s tears reduced and her breathing steadied, Rumplestiltskin had told her that story, of him and the Dark One before him and Baelfire. That was one of the first things she had asked him about when they were reunited. He had told her about Baelfire, what happened after she left, his imprisonment, things that happened after the Savior came to Storybrooke, everything. In the library, the second library he had given her.

            She remembered their time in that library, how he would drop by to help her arrange the books and clean up. How he would watch her as she read and came by every other day with lunch. That was before she lost her memories, before he found Bae, before everything had gone to hell. They had only had a few months of time together, then after Neverland only a week. She always thought the universe was conspiring against them, never giving them enough time.

            In her lap sat years of lost time.

            “Hey,” a voice startled Belle and snapped her back to reality, she looked up to see Baelfire walking up the stairs carrying tea. Quickly closing the box and pressing her sleeves to her wet eyes she gave him her attention. “Hey.”

            With concern in his eyes he set the tray on the table next to her, all the teacups and pots were silver except for the white and blue chipped cup reserved for Belle. Upon walking into the Dark Castle she had spotted their cup sitting on a pedestal, treated like a treasure. Baelfire had been entirely confused, watching this woman he had only known for a week crying over and cradling a damaged piece of china.

He still had yet to know what the meaning of the cup really was.

            “What’s that?” he asked her as he sat down on the carpet, pointing to the box of letters.

            “Nothing.” She replied quietly, she didn’t know why she didn’t tell him, but somewhere in herself she couldn’t. They were her letters, Rumplestiltskin had written them for her. Perhaps she would tell Baelfire once she went through them but now was not the time.

            To her slight relief, Baelfire nodded, he knew that there was something personal in the box that had to do with his father. But he wouldn’t pry, he was the expert at giving people space. Belle turned to fill her cup with tea and cream, her hands were tired and sore from the hours she spent going through books and the heat from the tea soothed them. She took a moment to watch the cream swirl around in the cup.

            “Did he tell you about this cup?” she asked Baelfire. Her gaze was still focused on the artistic coil of the cream but she felt Baelfire looking up at her.

            “No he didn’t.” he replied calmly. On their journey to the castle Belle had told him the outline of her story with Rumplestiltskin. How they met, their deal, how they fell in love, what happened with Regina, her imprisonment, her memory loss, and him leaving for Neverland. She hadn’t gone into detail and only gave a brief outline.

            “I dropped it on my first day here.” She said as she took a spoon and mixed the tea to a light brown. “I was terrified, I had heard tales about him, things he did to people, I thought for certain I was going to die.” Baelfire looked down, he knew some things his father had done in his early days of being the Dark One, just how much had he done in over 300 years Baelfire still didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

            “He wasn’t trying to intimidate me when I first got here, I was serving tea and he was going over my tasks. I was so scared of messing up and angering him, he made this morbid joke and startled me. I was pouring tea in this cup,” she lifted the cup up to her lips to take a sip and smiled fondly as she recounted the memory. “and I dropped the cup, spilled tea all over my dress. It was chipped and I was petrified, I didn’t know what he was going to do or how he would react. But he told me he didn’t care, it was ‘just a cup’.” She made her voice slightly higher pitched and almost laughed before her eyes went sad.

            Baelfire was drinking in the story, the corner of his mouth was turned up as he listen to Belle and watched how the thought of this event made her feel slightly happier.

            “He always used this cup after that, it made me not feel anxious, I knew that he wouldn’t hurt me and that I was safe around him.” Belle’s voice grew quieter as she went on. “Even after he made me go, he still kept it, he always kept it, even three decades after he’d thought I died.” She remembered how she had seen the cup when they had been reunited, Rumplestiltskin still drank from it and cherished it. Belle couldn’t help but do the same.

            Baelfire looked at her warmly, “He wasn’t sentimental.” He told her, “Before he was the Dark One, after he was the Dark One, he never kept much and he didn’t really care about anything he owned.” Baelfire wrapped his arms around his legs and looked at the floor. “He didn’t keep anything my mom had, I saw all the stuff he had in his shop and here, but trust me he never thought anything was that important.” He pointed to the cup, “You meant a lot to him, if he kept that for thirty years, especially if he thought you were dead, it meant he cared about you a lot.”

            Sleeves covering her mouth and her eyes watering Belle felt her breathing stop for a moment. Feeling numb and hollow she fell silent, fingers tightening around the cup handle.

            Baelfire moved over to her and he put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, she bit her lip as large tears dripped down her face.

            “I know,” she said once she shook off her emotions, “that’s I need to get him back.” Baelfire nodded in response. “Um, could I have a little time to go through this?” she gestured to the box, Baelfire gave a concerned glance but obliged. He took his teacup, along with a book from a pile on the floor and went down the stairs.

            She took a sip of tea as she started her third letter


	3. The Third and Fourth Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle reads the third and fourth letter.

_Dearest Belle,_

_It’s been a month since you died, I’ve been trying to block you out, spin to forget like I always to. But I can’t, I can’t forget you. There’s that potion I mentioned, the one that makes you forget who you need to, makes you forget heartbreak and those who broke it in the first place. I couldn’t take that potion even if I wanted to relieve myself of this grief. I can’t forget you._

_I can’t forget the woman who tore down my curtains, the woman who forgot to dust all the time, the woman who spent days at a time reading, the woman who teased me, the woman with a slightly twisted sense of humor, the woman who liked obnoxiously sweet tea, the woman who had hair like a chocolate river, the woman who had eyes like a frozen lake, the woman who went off on rants about politics and fictional characters. The woman who knew how to use a sword and a bow, the woman who saved her people, the woman who didn’t show fear, the woman who couldn’t bake to save her life but made amazing soup, the woman who asked me questions about my travels and the objects I got, the woman who seldom liked the main characters but always the villains, the woman who wanted to know more about me, the woman who left me speechless half the time, the woman who had a ridiculous sleeping schedule, the woman who couldn’t pronounce the word ‘miniature’, the woman who despised the sound of things snapping but loved the sound of fire crackling, I can’t forget you Belle. I don’t want to._

She was touched that he remembered all these things about her, she knew how many years he had seen and how many people he had met. She often thought about how Rumplestiltskin always remembered names and faces, but never anything specific, deeming most people unimportant. But he remembered everything about her, and it stuck her that when they were reunited the first time he had held onto those facts. Rumplestiltskin had always given her as he deemed ‘obnoxiously sweet’ tea; that had been a running argument, he liked his tea with too much cream and she liked it with too much sugar. But when she returned a few years before he had always made her tea as sweet as he could. He had recommended books with complex and morally ambiguous characters, lit fires as often as he could, put a cot in the pawnshop in case she needed a nap, told her about the politics of the world without magic so she could complain about them. No one had cared so much about those little, completely insignificant things about her. Let alone remember those things for thirty years.

            _You shouldn’t have loved me, I keep thinking that if I let you go you would find someone else, that you only loved me because there was no one else around to love. That’s probably true, I should have let you have me, because apparently you wanted me, I wanted you too, more than anything. I didn’t deserve you._

“Stop it.” Belle whispered to the words, “Stop saying these things Rumple.”

            _I keep thinking about our deal, I liked you from the moment we made that deal, and not just because you were beautiful and authoritative, but you respected that magic always comes with a price. You didn’t try to find a way to evade the price, you went with me and you intended to stay. I have made countless deals with countless fools and nearly all of them did not respect the principles of magic. Using magic is like buying a drink, if you don’t pay for the drink person could poison you. I keep thinking about how I poisoned you on accident._

_You paid the price of magic, you saved you village (and it has remained saved and ogre free), you went with me forever, but when you left you had broken the deal. I broke the deal._

_That was the second deal I have ever broken, the first was with my son and I lost him because of that. Now I lost you too. Most people assume that I dictate the price of magic, but I don’t usually, I mean I do make the price, but if they don’t pay it then the price appears on it’s own. I suppose that’s what happened to you. The price came up on its own._

Belle took a sip of her tea before contemplating his thoughts, her imprisonment with Regina, was that just a continuation of her deal with Rumplestiltskin? Magic did come with a price, perhaps she was just paying it, price was always defined by something one does not want to pay, Belle had enjoyed being with Rumplestiltskin too much for it to count as a price.

            _I have a plan to get him back, Baelfire, it’s been in motion for a while but it’s finally moving faster._

There was a large paragraph going on about how he was to put everything in place, with Cora, Regina, Snow White and Prince Charming and their unborn child. Belle fought the urge to roll her eyes at the complexity of it all.

            _I’ve spent years searching for a way to get back to my son, to get to the land without magic, and this is how I saw it would happen. If there is anything I learned in my lifetime, it is that fate is not something to challenge. I tried once and it cost me more than I could have ever predicted. Things will turn out this way, and today Snow White will come to make a deal with me. She will want a potion to get rid of the memory of the man she cannot be with, Prince James._

_There’s actually quite an amusing story there, with Prince James that is, he’s not actually a prince. About 25 years ago King George came to me in seek of an heir due to the fact that his wife could not conceive a child. At the same time there was a poor shepherd family having twins they couldn’t afford, so I arranged that one of the twins would be the heir of King George and they wouldn’t go hungry for five years. Recently the twin who was set as the prince won in a duel to become the dragon slayer for King Midas (the King cursed with turning things to gold with his touch), like I said, he won a duel and was set with the task of killing a dragon with the promise of a lifetimes worth of gold if he were to succeed, but right after he received the task he was killed by his near-dead opponent. King George was desperate to bring his son back to kill the dragon and receive Midas’ gold, but as you know, you can’t do that._

Those last words were written extremely shakily.

            _But I told him that the son I had given him had a twin, David the shepherd, he went to pose as the prince slaying the dragon while some of the king’s men actually did the slaying, but in a surprising turn of events he slayed the dragon himself. Unfortunately for him Midas had the intention of marrying Price James off to his daughter Princess Abigail, so now he is forced to pose as his dead twin brother whom he didn’t know existed._

_I feel as though this is the sort of story you would have liked to read about. I hope you liked it, I’ll tell you more about things that go on in the land of the living._

_You should have lived these stories yourself._

_-Yours, forever, Rumplestiltskin_

Belle had finished her tea, the pot next to her had cooled down significantly. She hadn’t know those things about David, James, or not James apparently. In the time before everything Rumplestiltskin would on occasion talk to her about deals he made with kings and queens, princes and princesses, all the high class people with terribly interesting secrets she was eager to learn. There was once a duke, she didn’t remember his name, but he was looking for a wife for his son, the duke was quite unpopular but he wanted his son to have a princess for a wife. Rumplestiltskin knew the duke was an idiot so he decided to mess with him, he told the duke that he could find a princess if he offered a bed to a girl who could feel a pea under twenty mattresses. At the same time, Rumplestiltskin had made a deal with a peasant woman who was sick of her poor life, he told her about the duke and what he had told him. The woman pretended to feel the pea under the matrasses and won the hand of the duke’s son.

            It surprised Belle that she enjoyed the story as much as she did, it didn’t have adventure, exotic locations, or even heroic characters; just a trickster imp who made deals with fools.

            The next letter began. It was shorter than she expected.

            _Dearest Belle,_

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

_You deserved so much more._

_It’s all my fault._

_Gods it’s all my fault._

_Belle._

_I loved you so much. I really did, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen._

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

_You didn’t deserve it._

_I love you Belle. I did. I really did._

_I’m so sorry._

_Please forgive me._

_Please._

There was no goodbye statement at the end, there were large blotches on the paper on the bottom, it faintly smelled of whisky. He had been drunk while writing this.

            Belle didn’t like to imagine him, alone in the castle, drinking and berating himself and missing her. She hated thinking of it happening while she was somewhere far off and locked away, not able to do anything.

            That seemed to be their tale over and over again. Him in pain or her in trouble, and the other not knowing or not able to do anything about it.

            Like watching him put the knife through himself.

            Stab.

            Pain.

            Light.

            Nothing.

            She wasn’t crying now, Belle had moved past that, but she was hurting more. There was always the vision she had, what if he hadn’t tossed her out in the first place, they could have been together. Maybe under the influence of the curse but together none-the-less. She could have gotten rid of the Dark One within him, saved him like she planned, they could have spent those thirty years together. What if she didn’t loose her memories, what if he hadn’t needed to go to Neverland.

            What if he hadn’t died.

            They had Pandora’s Box, they were so close to capturing Pan and keeping him in there. But he won at the right time and everything went to hell. Belle hated everything at that moment. Regina, separation, curses, magic, portals, whisky, Peter Pan, pirates with vengeance, false personas, hospitals, Rumplestiltskin and herself.

            Everything had failed and burned around Belle and she was done.

            She closed the lid of the box, went back to her books and searched for a way to bring back the one she loved and lost too many times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was shorter and took longer, I have a history paper I need to write so the next one might take a little bit longer. This is not the end, there are many more chapters to come.


	4. The Fifth Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in a while but the computer I use for writing and have all my documents on got fried by coffee and it took a while to fix. But all my documents are on Google now so I should be updating regularly now. On a side note I am taking prompts now for this.

“We stole the yellow car.” Baelfire said to break the silence they were both suffering through. It was a week after Belle had discovered the letters, she had managed to sleep most of the nights, something that had been a rather difficult task for her lately. After hours of searching through books and random hidden objects the pair had stopped for dinner. Belle was a horrendous cook but to her relief Baelfire was halfway decent. Eggs especially were a strong point, he had memorized a pancake recipe and Belle had accomplished not burning the ham.

                “Hm?” she replied.

                “The yellow bug, me and Emma stole it.” He smiled widely. “Well technically I stole it first and then Emma stole it from me while I was sleeping in it.”

                “So she stole your stolen car?” said Belle smirking.

                Baelfire nodded while grinning, “This one morning eleven years ago I parked it in this alleyway when I was driving through Oregon. Then all of a sudden I wake up and see Emma driving it.”

                “Did she know you were in the backseat?”

                “No she was pretty surprised, she had glasses back then, and she wore her hair in a ponytail.” Baelfire’s smile shrunk slightly, “She was happier back then.”

                Belle thought back to before everything, when she and Rumple had their own private world in the Dark Castle and there weren’t any threats or curses or prisons. She missed the quips, the flirting, the bickering, the mixed signals, and the general playful atmosphere. Gods, Belle just misses being with him. Like Emma and Baelfire, they had been happy too, then everything came tumbling down and things were never the same.

                After they reunited a year ago, things were always tense; she felt they had more problems than when they weren’t in a relationship to begin with. Rumple was her best friend, she was his only friend, they made each other at ease. But in Storybrooke everyone around them clashed with their ideal lives, his lust for magic and power, all the enemies and misfortunes. Belle missed safety. She missed consistent happiness.

                Perhaps after they could find a way to revive Rumple, after that they could find a way to get back to Emma and Henry, they could have that happiness. There was the smallest chance they could bring him back.

                Light hit her eyes, the sunset rays outside annoyingly blinded her, Belle got up to cover up the windows but hen she did she froze. Her body felt heavy and leaned to the side slightly, her head felt like there was a bullet traveling through it.

                She remembered.

                She remembered taking them down and falling into Rumplestiltskin’s arms, she remembered all of it. Every moment of interaction between the two of them. Countless conversations that lasted hours, midnight tea, lying in bed together in their Storybrooke house, attempting to cook before resorting to magic, gifts of books, the fact that he half a foot taller than her so she always wore high heels to make up for it, him introducing her to music and books from the new world, long kisses, hugs where they squeezed each other tightly for so long,  playful flirting, wearing his clothes, playing with each others hair, deep conversations, pointless conversations, all of it.

                The realizations came crashing down to Belle all in one second that all those moments were gone forever and that she would never have them ever again. Never. She would never see Rumplestiltskin again.

                Her hand gripped on the thick velvet curtains, even through the fabric her fingernails pierced her skin. They smelled like burning wood and flowers, Rumple. Her Rumple. She wanted to scream at nothing in particular, maybe the castle, maybe herself, maybe Baelfire or Pan or Rumplestiltskin or the idea of death itself. In one swift motion she tore the curtains down, letting them fall down to the floor in a folded pile, she began kicking against the wall, letting ouat all her fury at everything. She could taste blood in the back of her throat and her whole body was vibrating with emotion. Belle knelt down into the cloth, took an end of the curtain and without reason began trying to rip the thick velvet apart. All surroundings were lost to her, all her pent up emotions poured out of her.

               _‘I’m never going to see him again, I just got him back and I’m never going to see him again.’_

                After her two years in the castle she had spent thirty years as a prisoner.

                Then they had two months together.

                Then her memory had been lost for six weeks.

                Then he had gone to Neverland for one week.

                Then they had two days where nothing was wrong.

                Two years, two months, two days.

                Not enough time, never enough time. There was always something against them, Regina, Hook, Pan. Now there was no more damage to be done.

                “Belle,” there was a hand on her shoulder. Baelfire had walked over, her face was a red mess with her make up smeared. Belle didn’t turn around. He was towered over her but he put his arms around her and rested his head on the top of hers. Her breathing steadied and he let go after a second, she wiped her cheeks and faced him, her eyes looking at the floor.

                “I’m never going to see him again.” She finally stated. “I just got him back and I’m never going to see him again.” The truth in her voice stood out and hurt the both of them. Her hands cupped her mouth and she choked up slightly.

                “Hey.” Baelfire put his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes, “we’re not giving up, we’re getting him back. If there’s one thing I know this family for it’s doing the impossible.” He said with so much determination in his voice that she almost believed him. He gave her a hug but it felt as though he was trying to prevent her from lashing out at something, Belle stood there in the embrace as Rumple’s words rang in her ears.

               _“Magic can’t bring back the dead”_

_“No magic can bring the dead back to life”_

_“Magic can do much but no that, dead is dead.”_

                Rumple had known magic better than anyone , if he couldn’t do it then how could they? But maybe he could do it, maybe the price was just one he didn’t want to pay, maybe there was a way but he had simply never tried it. He never once mentioned anyone he would have wanted to bring back. Anyone except… her.

                _The letters, the letters had to have something, maybe he had tried to bring her back, maybe he had mentioned something._

                Maybe Belle just wanted to hear from him again.

                “I have to go do something.” She said quickly as she stepped away from Baelfire. He let her have space and proceeded to clean up the dinner while she darted to the library.

                She had placed the box back in the cabinet behind the bookshelf, she quickly took it out and grabbed the stack of letters while sorting them out on the floor. She sorted by date, though they all seemed to be in that order anyway, and in all there were about thirty letters. The last one dated back to a year before the curse hit, he had started writing them when he was told she died which was presumably when Regina had captured her. Belle had spent a month wandering around the realm before she was taken and she was a prisoner for nearly two years before the curse hit, that meant that there was a year period when Rumple wrote his letters to her. She didn’t know why they stopped after a year, she knew he hadn’t gotten over her with his reaction when he saw her again and the fact that he kept the cup. Something had happened to him in that time.

                She put the first four back in the box and reached for the fifth one.

                _Dearest Belle,_

_The deal went rather smoothly, I gave the princess the potion although she has not used it yet. She’s waiting until she knows there is no chance of being with Prince James, or as she calls him ‘Prince Charming’,_

                She could hear his playful, mocking tone as she read that name. She remembered a game the two of them used to play, they had thought the name was so ridiculous that at completely random moments one of them would burst out “Prince Charming!” in a funny voice, followed by a great deal of laughter from the other.

                _I know for a fact that these two will produce the Savior that will break the curse and allow me to find Baelfire. I’ve seen into the future that Queen Regina will cast a curse that will get me to the Land Without Magic (where my son is), then the product of True Love will break that curse allowing me to search for him, and finally a young boy will lead me to him._

                “Henry,” she smiled, she didn’t remember exactly what had happened since her memories had been gone at the time. But she did know that when Rumple had gone looking for Bae in new York he had brought Emma and Henry with him, leading to the surprise that Baelfire was Henry’s father.

                Though, she thought, the prophecy said that that boy would be his undoing. Henry wasn’t his undoing, that was Pan. Perhaps he had somehow been the one to lead Rumple to Baelfire in a way that wasn’t obvious. Or more likely future-telling was unpredictable and unreliable.

                _There are more world than ours Belle, many of them magical and several I have seen for myself. Though there is one that is almost impossible to reach and that is where my Baelfire is. It is the Land Without Magic, he wanted to go there in order to get rid of my power without killing me. That’s was the only way I knew I could get rid of the power of the Dark One back then. Now I suppose there is a way, with love, but I was a coward, I was always a coward._

_I could have just let you kiss me and take my power away, I could have gone back to the man you wanted for reasons that are beyond me. But I am a coward, I’ve spent centuries as the Dark One and I wouldn’t know how to adapt back to the way I was before. I wouldn’t know how to live without it, I would be terrified._

                Belle wondered back to when they had first been reunited, the minute the curse back he had brought back magic, his magic, his power. As he said, “a crutch he couldn’t walk without”. Was that true of him? Belle believed in him more than he believed in himself, she thought he could have, but if he had convinced himself that he was worthless without magic, how long could he last without it?

                She saw plain that it hurt him, the magic had taken him over so much that he had been drowning in it and he hadn’t been able to tell. Belle could tell, whenever he used magic there was always a nearly wicked shine in his eyes that she could tell gave him a feeling of security and made his armor invincible.

                Baelfire had known what he was like without magic, Belle thought of what she knew of his life before he had magic, how his wife had left him, his son was going to be taken from him, how everyone had hated him, from his leg to his reputation the fates seemed to have a personal vendetta against the poor spinner. It was no wonder he held onto the power as if it could be taken from him at any moment, why it took him a while to trust anyone with anything, why he was the way he was. Why he had been vulnerable to the drug that was power.

                She would have to ask Baelfire about it.

                _But when I am to go to the Land Without Magic, I will be as I once was, that’s what my son wanted._

_I suppose I should explain how I know I will go there, how all this nonsense I’ve told you will add up. It’s a long story but you’ll never read this so it doesn’t matter._

_Before my son was born I was drafted for the Ogre Wars (the first ogre wars), after a few months of being with the army I was put to watch a child seer. She told me that my wife was pregnant and that my actions on the battlefield would leave my child fatherless. Prompting me to injure myself so I could be sent home. Years later, after I had lost my son to the portal, I found the seer again and took her power to see how I would find him._

_When we were together and I was falling in love with you I could have seen how things could have turned out with us, how I could have prevented so many tragedies and saved you. I could have done so many things to save you._

_But if there was something I learned all those years ago, it is not to tempt fate, something would have happened to you or me or both of us that would have been worse than death._

                Belle pondered that line. Something worse than death, was imprisonment, the loss of her memories, and his death, all leading to the state of things now. Were all those things worth having a bit more time together? Yes, she decided, she would have gone through all those things again to have if only a day more with her Rumple.

                She touched the spot on her cheek that he loved to stroke.

                _I loved you Belle, I should have told you that long ago. I loved you. I always loved you._

_I hope wherever you are, you’re happy, and you know that._

_Yours, forever, Rumplestiltskin_

                Belle smiled and ran her thumb across the bottom of the page where Rumplestiltskin put his love for her on the page in careful handwriting. Careful not to wrinkle the paper she lifted it up and pressed her lips to his name. She took a glance to the floor of letters, at least one of them had to have some way, somehow to bring back the dead.

                Even if they didn’t, she needed some essence of her beloved.


End file.
